


rafail

by PinkHydrangea



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Valentine's Day, mild but obvious spice in chapter 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-18 16:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13685118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkHydrangea/pseuds/PinkHydrangea
Summary: The holiday is intended to celebrate "happy meetings," and the two of them most certainly have plans for each other, even if the other doesn't know it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> THIS MAY BE A SMIIIIDGE SLOPPY, i just started my new fulltime job last week and didn't realize Valentine's was creeping up on me until perhaps four days ago?? so this isn't perhaps my best work, but i wanted to write fluffy tatizekes for Valentine's, because im actually very fond of the holiday...... and obviously they're the Smushiest couple ever so they're gonna celebrate
> 
> couple other notes:  
> \- i didn't want to call it "Valentine's Day," so i did some research, found out the saint Raphael is the saint of happy meetings, and made his name Russian to match Rigelian aesthetic.  
> \- Astrid doesn't show up much in this, but she's an minor OC from my fic _[by the seashore](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11167452/chapters/24926727)_ whom i really enjoyed writing, so i threw her in here just because she's cute.... don't pay her much mind though she's not overwhelmingly relevant  
>  \- also, this is.... a liiiiittle more suggestive than what i normally write, but nothing explicit in action  
> \- i experimented with combined POV in this work, which is something i've never really done before, which is another reason it might be sloppy. it's just a bit of experimentation

When people start asking Zeke what he plans on doing for Rafail’s, he has zero clue about what they mean. It’s always a passing question during work, so he merely stares, blank-faced, until the person—who isn’t really listening for an answer and is just making polite smalltalk—moves onto their next task. He’s always a little embarrassed to ask questions like “What in the world do you mean?,” because it just makes the fact that he’s a very foreign immigrant all the more glaring.

But people keep asking him. Over and over. And he doesn’t know what they mean at all.

Zeke asks, eventually, and he asks Astrid, because even though she is just shy of fifteen, she’s more polite and level-headed than most of the adults he knows. He asks her in the mess hall, over coffee, what in the world Rafail’s is, and she gives him a surprised look with those big eyes of hers.

“You don’t know?” She takes a long sip of her coffee before looking at him again. “Really?”

“Is it a holiday?” he guesses. “A festival?”

“Yeah.” Astrid says. “I gotta go back to work, so I can’t explain it all to you now, but I’m sure Tatiana would tell you. It’s basically just a celebration of relationships.”

“Relationships?”

She waves a hand around. “Yeah, like, you could celebrate relationships you have with siblings and stuff, but it’s kinda deviated from that in recent times. It’s honestly more of a romantic holiday now.”

Zeke sighs and puts a cheek in his hand, smiling fondly. “Now I see. That’s why everyone and their horse has been acting me in particular about my plans?”

“It’s only two weeks away,” Astrid says forcefully. “You gotta plan! Prepare!”

“And, what sorts of things should I be planning and preparing?”

“Well, um, I guess my dad proposed to my mom on Rafiel’s. You could do that.”

“I- I don’t think I’m ready to do that just on a whim.”

* * *

 

“You didn’t tell me there was a holiday coming up,” Zeke says when he comes home.

Tatiana stiffens, holds her sewing tightly, and smiles sheepishly. “I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

He frowns at her as he removes his coat and hangs it. “Of course I’m interested. This is my home now; don’t you think I should know about the culture?”

He’s so cute, with his brow all scrunched up and an ornery twist of his lips as he stares at her. Tatiana puts her sewing to the side and gets up, batting away little strands of thread that cling to her cardigan. She meets him at the door, puts her hands on his shoulders, and tilts her head back expectantly. Immediately, he gives her what she wants, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to her lips as he strokes her hair. It gives her butterflies in her stomach still, and she can’t help but smile and tug on his clothes a little insistently, begging for another smooch.

“Insatiable,” Zeke teases, but he gives her another regardless. “What are your plans for this evening?”

His bangs are a little out of place, likely from riding. Tatiana reaches up and brushes them into place. “Hmm. Just going to finish dinner and sew, I suppose. I’ve already got the soup simmering, so why don’t you go get comfortable? I heated up some water and put it in the bath for you.”

He catches her hand as she lowers it, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist, and then leaves her. Tatiana hums as she straightens his coat on the hook by the door, checks that the door is locked, and then goes to the kitchen. She hears water moving in the back of the house, and part of her, a little devil on her shoulder, tells her to go climb in with him. Yet, she already has dinner simmering and flatbread waiting to be cooked.

Zeke comes out into the living area just as she’s finished putting dinner on the table, a towel draped over his head as he dries out his hair. He smiles when she whips it off his head, chiding teasingly, “Mind your manners in my kitchen, Ezekiel,” and takes a seat. The air is just a little nippy with the fire smoldering out in the living room, and he must be especially cold with his hair still wet, so he helps himself to the piping hot meal.

“Let me go start the fire again. Go ahead and start without me,” she urges. “It’s so chilly. I hope it warms up a little for the holiday in a couple of weeks.”

He starts eating as she goes over and feeds the fireplace a couple of logs. “So, this holiday. Rafail’s? What is it?”

Tatiana strikes a match over the hearth, letting it burst into flame, and then throws it to the wood. “It’s an old holiday about happy meetings, but particularly about happy meetings between lovers and spouses.”

She finishes stoking the flames, warms herself by the fire for a moment, and then goes back to the kitchen. Zeke is already helping himself to a second bowl, but fills hers before eating anymore. She picks up steaming flatbread and tears it to pieces, using it to scoop up the stew.

“Mind your manners in my kitchen, Tatiana,” he says, a laugh leaving him as she reaches over to prod him with her fork. “Mercy, mercy, my love. Now, how did this holiday come about?”

Tatiana chews on a spoonful of stew while she thinks. “Hmm. Well, it’s mostly a Zofian holiday, actually. In the eastern part of Rigel, it’s forbidden to celebrate it. Here in the west, and especially to the south where we are, it’s a big to-do, though.”

“Banned?” Zeke echoes, looking perplexed.

“The Duma Faithful are more influential there,” she mumbles, a sinking feeling in her gut. “Anything Zofian or not inherently religious is deemed bad. So, we’re lucky to be here, in the west.”

He scoffs as he tears a piece of bread. “‘Banned.’ Have you ever heard something so ridiculous?”

She sighs and stirs her stew. “Nothing to be done. But, in any case, it was a day made in honor of a Rigelian saint, Rafail, and her lover, and a Zofian noble. This was way back when romantic relationships were super strictly forbidden between countries, and because it was a saint and a noble, it was extra taboo.”

“Mmmhm.”

“It’s not a happy story,” Tatiana admits. “The Zofian noble was hanged by his own peers, and Rafail locked herself up in her priory for the rest of her days, which weren’t long at all. When she died, they named her a patroness saint of happy meetings and… other things. And, years after her death, the Zofians had the gall to use her name and position for a holiday. Can you believe that?”

Zeke gives her a pointed look over the rim of his wine glass. “And yet, here Rigelians are, celebrating as well.”

She blushes. “W-well, you could say we took the holiday and reclaimed it. Here in Rigel, it’s common for newlyweds or people hoping to be married to pray to her. A lot of cities even erect makeshift statues and shrines for the event, then hold festivals. In Zofia, they just sell a lot of sweets and don’t pay the historical context any attention at all.”

“That seems rather crass.”

“Mm, guess it’s better than eastern Rigel, where it’s not allowed to be celebrated at all.” Tatiana swipes up the last bits of stew in her bowl with bread. “And that’s how the holiday goes.”

“And that’s how it goes,” he agrees. “And, what do people do for Rafail’s?”

“Hmm?”

Zeke sets his wine glass to the side and folds his hands together, like he’s in an important meeting. “Everyone keeps asking me what I intend to do for Rafail’s. What am I supposed to do?”

Tatiana coughs and covers her cheeks. “W-well, it’s, uh, basically an excuse to be mushy and romantic.”

“Hm.” He puts a cheek in a hand and looks at her with such an intense gaze. “Interesting.”

“The celebration lasts a couple of days,” she continues. “The first day, which is actually Rafail’s Day, it’s customary to have celebrations at home with your loved ones. Father Alexi would always bring me home a present when I was a girl. Actually, he still does that… Old habits die hard.”

“And these celebrations?”

“Aw, just dinner and stuff. Couples do candlelit junk, get out the champagne, kiss a little. Then, you go to bed. And do stuff there.” Tatiana spoons herself another bowl of stew, ignoring the amused look Zeke gives her.

“Hmm. I like the sound of that last part.”

She decides to not tell Zeke that Rafail is also the patroness saint of fertility, and that many couples go to bed and “do stuff” on that night with the intent of receiving her blessing.

“The next day, there are festivals in a lot of towns and cities. They have lots of food stalls and stuff, special prices at the market, and those shrines I was telling you about.”

Tatiana also leaves out the part then about how newlyweds not only go to Rafail to pray for continued happiness, but also for more of her blessings regarding things they will undoubtedly be doing that evening. She also neglects to say that many of the special prices at the market are related to different charms and concoctions and medicinal blends intended to increase fertility as well.

The older Tatiana gets, even if she’s only 21, the worse that part of the festival seems to get.

“I see.” Zeke starts to clear his plate. “And, what do you want to do on Rafail’s?”

Tatiana can’t let him know her surprise.

“Oh, nothing really,” she says nonchalantly.

He’s behind her now, at the kitchen sink, but she knows he’s jumped a foot into the air. “Really? Nothing?”

She’s never been good at keeping small little secrets like this, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t try. “Yeah, nothing really.”

“Hm.” She feels him looming over her and looks at him over her shoulder. He appears perplexed and doubtful. “You don’t want to do anything. At all. On a holiday heavily focused on romance?”

Tatiana puts a pout on her face as she stares him down. “You’re busy, you know. I’m sure you’ve got no time to plan out a whole day of fun with me.”

He frowns, lifts an eyebrow, but sighs and shakes his head. “Well, I suppose that’s fine by me. So, no gifts? No candlelit dinner? No festival?”

It all sounds so much fun, but she can’t show that. She just shakes her head, smiling blithely. “Not a thing. I won’t do anything, and you won’t do anything. It can just be the same as any other day.”

Zeke’s shoulders slump, a little, and he looks perplexed.

Good.

* * *

 

“And, what are you doing for Rafail’s?” a sister at the church asks Tatiana the next day.

Tatiana hums as she beats the dust out of a drape, then sets her hands on her hips. “Candlelit dinner. His favorite foods. I got a bottle of really nice wine from the emperor last time we were in the capital, just for Rafail’s. I’m gonna have the house all clean, the fire going, and it’s gonna be nice and relaxing.”

“How nice.” The sister keeps on polishing her staff, then looks at her again. “And what’s he doing for you?”

Satisfied with her cleaning, Tatiana nods, then moves onto the next task of polishing the windows. “Not a thing.”

“Really?”

“Yup. He doesn’t know that I’m doing something special, so I told him no presents or anything.” She is pleased, so she folds her arms and smiles. “I’ll catch him completely by surprise, right?”

“I guess. That is, if you can keep the secret for two weeks,” the cleric snips amusedly. “Are you two planning on spending the night in together? Perhaps in bed?”

A flush reddens Tatiana’s cheeks. She leans against the wall, huffing and pouting. “Not like that. I mean, we probably are, but I didn’t really tell him about  _ that _ part of the holiday.”

The cleric appears very delighted. She sets her staff to the side and stands, hands on her hips, and regards Tatiana. “You didn’t? He’ll find out eventually.”

Tatiana throws her head back to glare up at her, then says, “Well, he’s not finding out from me. No thank you. I’m having a nice dinner, a fun evening in, and nothing is gonna make that awkward.”

“Newlyweds go to the city to pray for good luck in conceiving, you know. You better hope he doesn’t take you to a festival on the second day.” The sister looks down the hall, where her name has been called from, and starts to leave. “Well, you have fun with your planning.”

Tatiana watches her go, sighing and shaking her head. Rather than worry about that, she has a dinner to plan and romance to look forward to. There isn’t any way she’s letting her parade get rained on by any sort of awkwardness.

* * *

 

“Tatiana told me to do nothing for her on Rafail’s,” Zeke tells Astrid the next day. “Peculiar. I thought she would’ve been vibrating with excitement for a day of romance and excitement.”

Astrid swings her legs from the fence she’s sitting on. “Oh, she told you about it?”

“Yes yes, said it was a day of romance and the like, just as you said. Lots of candlelit dinners and-” Zeke bites his tongue, recalls that he is speaking to a fourteen-year-old, and says, “Cuddling.”

“Hmm.” Astrid regards him with those big, owlish eyes of hers. “You’re really gonna just let the holiday pass by and not do anything?”

He watches two of the soldiers, practice-jousting in the field, then glances down to Astrid. “Well, what am I to do? I’ve no idea what to do for her. There’s supposedly a festival on the second day, and I could, in theory, get work off for that, but-”

“Take her to it,” Astrid says. “And you should buy her some presents for the first day. And then you should kiss her a lot. It doesn’t have to be anything big and extravagant, and if she said to not do anything, won’t she be extra surprised?”

“I suppose that’s true,” Zeke admits. “I could take her to the festival. What kind of gifts am I supposed to get, though?”

“Flowers and sweets,” she advises. “If you go into the town on your way home, I’m sure they’ll have lots of displays and stuff at stores.

“Will they now?” 

Zeke is certain that, if he goes, he’ll be accosted with all sorts of festive frivolities, but the thought of surprising Tatiana sounds nice. A new dress, perhaps, or some cute shoes. A box of pastries could be nice. He doesn’t much care for shopping outside of weekly grocery trips, but he does care deeply for a look of delight on Tatiana’s face.

* * *

 

“You’re certain you want nothing for the holiday?” Zeke asks multiple times, every single day. “Nothing? At all?”

Every day, Tatiana lies through her teeth (she wants love and affection and to be spoiled within an inch of her life!) and says, “Nothing at all. I know you’re busy. We’ll do something else some other time, okay?”

Every day, Zeke says, “Very well,” even though he’s still thinking almost every second of the day what gifts to shower her in.

* * *

 

The town, when Tatiana goes just a day or two before Rafail’s, is plastered with color. Shades of vivid red and demure white line the streets and vendor’s stalls, and it’s too pretty for her to not stop and stare. The cobblestone streets are lined with brightly-colored confetti, and there are streamers lining the shops. It’s a couple of days until the festival, yet it already looks ready to go, setting the perfect mood. Already, Tatiana sees couples of all varieties milling the streets, undoubtedly picking up things for their celebrations.

Tatiana is without her partner, however, and she is on a mission. She has money saved up from the past three months, most of the coins saved from her meager cleric’s wage, because if this is really going to be a surprise and a present, she can’t spend any of Zeke’s money. She’s fortunate she doesn’t have to buy the wine (though she still reels over the fact that Emperor Rudolf just handed it to her—her!—and told her to use it for a day like Rafail’s).

She stands under the awning of a shop, pulling her shopping list out of her pocket, and studies it. She needs to go to the butcher, the baker, get some ingredients from various stalls. She needs candles, probably table decorations, and she thinks that, if she has enough money left over, perhaps some new wine glasses would be nice.

The perfect night is envisioned in her head, and though she’s sensible, and doesn’t really expect it to turn out exactly the way she sees it, she does intend to get pretty close. Tatiana has never before had someone to celebrate the romantic side of Rafail’s with. Exchanging gifts with friends is fun, and something she does well every year, but she’s excited for something new. It’s not like she’s been dreaming of this day or anything, but she’s been looking forward to it the past few months.

She’s excited to not be alone.

She seems to not be the only one looking forward to a pleasant night in, because shopping is a hassle. It’s busy, loud, and prices on what she wants to buy are ridiculously high, simply because of the demand. Tatiana is on good terms with the town’s butcher, and that gets her just a smidge of the price cut on the meat. The baker feels unnecessarily indebted to her for a time when she healed his sister, so he takes a couple of silver marks off the price of flour and gives her a puffy, sugary pink pastry for free.

There is one particular shop that she paces by a couple of times during her shopping. She has a fair sum of money put aside for what it sells, and it’s burning a hole in her pocket, it seems, every time she passes it by. It’s busy, and she eyes the store nervously each time she passes. She’s just being a coward, she knows that; she should just suck it up, go in, get what she wants, and then leave.

Tatiana paces by the seamstress’ shop at least two times more before steeling herself and going in. It’s embarrassing, but she feels she could do with a nice set of lingerie for the evening.

* * *

 

The town is normally quiet when Zeke passes through. He stops by a lot of the time when he needs to pick up groceries for the week, or if he feels like buying Tatiana something nice to surprise her with. He hasn’t been in the past week, however, and it has changed drastically. There are decorations strung up, a high density of people, and just. A lot.

He has anxiety.

It’s the day before Rafail’s, and he decides to scope out what he can before the big day. Astrid and multiple others had warned that the day of is wildly busy, so he would be better off going before then to put holds on items. Zeke had assumed it would be busy, but what he’s standing in the midst of now is barely controlled chaos, all tied up with a lace ribbon.

Tatiana would love it.

Zeke squirms his way through swathes of people, when normally his sheer size gets them to move out of the way on its own. He mumbles “pardon me”s and “excuse me”s all the way through the town, doing his best to not step on anyone’s toes.

It seems that what people give for gifts on Rafail’s is material nonsense: Sweets, ribbons, clothes, perfumes. It all looks cute, however, and Zeke will never ever say no to spoiling Tatiana with those things, because he knows that she likes them.

The first thing he decides to buy her is a new dress, because all of hers are cute, but clearly meant for work and practicality over beauty. He buys her a nice one; a soft red garment, cut square in the neckline, tied at the waist with a black ribbon, and lined with trimmings of white lace. It costs enough to give him a passing headache, but it’s not like his wallet is about to be dry anytime soon, so he ignores it. The merchant wraps it nicely in a parcel, wishes him well, and he heads back into the fray.

He buys a couple of other small things for her that he can keep at his office. A bottle of perfume, a hair ribbon, some lip paint, and an apron for practicality’s sake, so he can tell himself that he’s not  _ really _ spoiling her when he absolutely is. The vendors seem delighted to see someone out on their own, shopping for a surprise to their partner, but Zeke doesn’t think he’s that special.

The bakery in particular is hellish, but he braves it regardless and manages to put a small order down for the next day. The workers look beyond relieved that he gets something manageable, and he pities their bedraggled looks. The holiday is, apparently, not full of splendor for everyone.

Zeke thinks that he has a fair amount of things to spoil her with, the dress in particular. It’ll take a while for him to go back to the base and stash the items, and then turn back around and head home, but he hopes that it he won’t be home so late that Tatiana becomes suspicious at all. 

He’s leaving the madness of the marketplace, and then slows his step when he walks by rows and rows of flowers, lining the streets in even more brilliant colors than the vast decorations. There are pots of flowers, bouquets, individuals, bundles and bundles of roses, and it’s truly a sight. Zeke pauses, regarding a particularly lovely bouquet of carnations, lilies, and foliage, and he catches the attention of the florist.

He knows this florist. This florist is very well-acquainted with him, after all the countless times of stopping and buying bundles of flowers to present to Tatiana. With all the gifts in his hands, the florist has no hard time deciphering what Zeke is here for, and easily coaxes him into placing an order for a large bouquet.

It’s not like it’s a metric ton of presents, but he starts to wonder how he’ll carry them all home on horseback.

* * *

 

Zeke wakes up to the feeling of lips against his and a soft hand on his cheek. He’s hardly awake, barely roused from sleep at all, but he still reaches up to touch Tatiana with fumbling, half-asleep hands. As the lips leave him, he hears a giggle, sweet and delighted, and finally opens his eyes.

As expected, Tatiana is leaning over him, a happy smile on her face as she brushes his hair out of his eyes. Zeke hums, stretching his body just a little, and roves his hands further up to cup her cheeks. Needing no prompting from his touch, his lover leans back down, settling her lips against his again. She’s soft and warm, her lips like smooth silk as they move over his own. He sighs whenever they part for an intake of air, but every second she is not kissing him feels like a painful eternity.

Her hands rove from his face down his neck, fingertips light as a feather. They stop on his chest, rubbing him slightly, and then keep sliding down to the curve of his abs. Zeke gasps just a little at her touch, then groans low in his throat when she sneaks her tongue over his lips and into his mouth. It’s only a brief tangle of tongues, a kiss that’s heated and passionate for not long at all, but he still threads his fingers in her hair and holds her close.

Tatiana pulls away first, her fingers still ghosting over his stomach. She looks pretty, already prepared for the day, but her lips are a bit swollen now. She smiles though, gently caressing him as he continues waking up.

“So,” he mumbles. “One of those mornings?”

“Hmmm.” She lets her eyes drift shut, then leans forward and kisses the tip of his nose. “I wonder.”

Zeke drags a hand through her hair, pulling the silken strands along through his fingers, and is mesmerized by the color and flow in his still-hazy state. “I thought you said you weren’t going to do anything for Rafail’s.”

He looks back to her face, where she’s put on a cute little pout that she doesn’t mean to be serious at all. It’s only cute and endearing, and she’s barely able to keep the expression as she says, “Well, maybe this could be your present. How would you like that?”

Tatiana drags a hand, flat over his abs, further down his body. He takes in a shaking breath as her fingers tease just above a very sensitive area, and as soon as he says, “I think I would like that very much, my sweet,” she gently grabs hold of him and wakes him up in an exceedingly pleasurable way.

* * *

 

Zeke leaves the house without mentioning Rafail’s except for that one little comment in bed. Tatiana supposes that the handjob might have taken his mind off of it, and feels a little puffed up and proud for holding such a strong sway over him, at least in that sort of situation. Big and strong General Ezekiel, her tough-as-nails lover that can get almost anyone to quake in their boots, putty in her hands as soon as she  _ literally _ has him in her hands.

He makes to leave the house to head to work soon after he gets ready, claiming that it will likely be a busy day. He takes the lunch she’s packed him, checks what is inside the wicker box, then amusedly says, “Tatiana, you said nothing special today, my love. But first that wakeup call, and now this nice lunch? Are you going back on your word?”

Tatiana smiles all innocently, then says, “Well, I guess I’m giving you two presents. Can you really blame me for that one in bed, though? You look so  _ cute _ when you’re waking up.”

Zeke puts the lid back on, leans down a little, and gives her a slight kiss on her lips. She gets on her toes, lightly grabbing the stiff fabric of his military-grade coat in her hands, and kisses him back with her throbbing heart threatening to burst right out of her chest. He finishes kissing her, says, “That seems like three presents to me,” then leaves with the usual “I love you”s that they part with.

Tatiana opens up the blinds of the window, leaning over the counter and getting on her tiptoes to peer outside, and watches him leave. He saddles his horse, fixing the buckles and straps, and then seems to sense her gaze. Zeke turns, looking at her in the window, and smiles when she grins and curls her fingers in a wave. He shakes his head but looks happy, then mounts his horse and leaves.

He’s dreamy, and honestly she could sit around thinking about him aaaallll day long, but she has a job to do if she wants to make her first Rafail’s as someone’s lover, and his first one ever, into something special. No dawdling for her, so she rolls up her sleeves, makes a list in her head, and gets to work.

It’s kinda hard to work though when she has people coming by what seems like once every five minutes. She has the village children coming over, gifts so lovingly and charmingly made by hand for her, and it takes up a lot of time when she fondly tells each and every one how talented they are and how their gestures warm her heart, but what is she supposed to do? Brush a seven-year-old off because she has a cake to make? Never.

She has Father Alexi stop by, his annual present for her in his hands (this year, it’s a very beautiful sunhat made from white straw, and it’s her favorite present in quite a few years), and of course she has to invite him in for tea and a snack and to talk about all of her plans for Rafail’s when he demands to know them. He seems to pick up the hint that she’s busy and leaves quickly, but after that, it’s a seemingly endless stream of childhood friends, who are so used to swooning and sighing over their plans to her, because Tatiana has never really had any herself before and has always been a willing ear to a lovesick girl.

One friend, who has always been a little more grounded and sensible than the rest, sees the big clutter of ingredients Tatiana has in the kitchen and offers to lend a hand. Her partner hates the holiday, she says, and never wants to do anything, so she has the time. Relieved, Tatiana puts her to work simmering fruit and sugar and starts the process of sprucing up the house, which isn’t much work at all, because they always keep it very clean.

The friend lets out a low whistle as she takes in the sight of all the mess in the kitchen. “You have plans, my friend.”

Tatiana pauses fluffing the couch where the old priest sat a couple of hours ago, blushing. “Is it too much? It’s just a really nice dinner and some candles. D-do I seem desperate and needy?”

“What’s this you’re making?” the friend muses as she zests an orange. “A cake?”

“A charlotte,” she corrects quietly. “Is that too much?”

“I think it’s okay.”

She breathes a sigh of relief and starts to sort through the ingredients on the table. “Good. I want it to be a tasteful evening. No rose petals on the bed, no dramatics, nothing like that. I just want a nice dinner and a quiet evening in.”

“Awww, don’t mock the classic rose petals on the bed,” her friend teases. “My neighbor was talkin’ allllll about how she was gonna do that tonight.”

Tatiana winces. “Oh, gods.”

The friend checks what she is stirring, then asks, “If you’re putting on this nice dinner for him, what’s he doin’ for you?”

A little pang of sadness strikes her, and she admits, “Nothing, but that’s my own fault. I want it to be a surprise, so I said I didn’t want anything at all so that he wouldn’t expect this.”

“I see.” There’s quiet for a moment, and then Tatiana is asked, in a very teasing and suggestive fashion, “Now, are you two lovebirds gonna be praying to the patroness saint before turning in the evening, Sister Tatiana?”

Tatiana blushes as red as the streamers in the marketplace and can’t come up with a witty response.

* * *

 

Astrid claims the amount of presents in his office is a lot, but when Zeke expresses a fear of coming across as too needy or desperate, she assures him that it’s better to be overeager than a grouch on Rafail’s. People who scorn the holiday are no fun, she says, and commends him for doing well in celebrating properly. Zeke doesn’t know why he feels pleased at the approval of a fourteen-year-old girl, but Astrid has a head on her shoulders that far surpasses almost anyone else he knows, so he figures that it means something.

After she leaves his office to dust the library, Zeke tries to move through his work with as few distractions as possible. He wasn’t lying to Tatiana when he said that it would be a busy day, and if he has any hopes of getting home at a reasonable hour like he promised her he would, he has to move efficiently.

Efficiency, however, is hard when he leaves his office to get a cup of coffee and he gets swarmed, to put it bluntly. He steps outside of his office and he has either people asking what he has planned for the evening (“What are you planning for your girl, General? Something special?”), people with legitimate work-related questions (“Where should these be filed? Do you need the papers now or later?”), or young women.

There are a  _ lot _ of young women, and he gets back to his office an hour later than intended, even though all he wanted was a damnable cup of coffee.

It’s fortunate that he finishes his work on time and manages to slip away without catching Jerome’s eye, because if he ever sees him looking at all like he has something to do or somewhere to be, he can find the most meaningless job in the world and force him to do it to keep him longer. That’s not the case today, though, and he grabs Ephraim from the stables, packs the gifts much easier than he thought he would be able to, and leaves while the sun is still in the sky.

If Zeke thought the town was busy the day before, it is now overwhelmingly clustered with people. He just has to make his way through the crowd to the bakery, the only store in the entire marketplace that seems to be winding down for the day, and gets his order. After that, it’s just the flowers, and that’s on the way out of the town, so he doesn’t have to stand in the cramped corner of a store while he waits for a bouquet that’s overpriced for the season.

Though, when he picks up the flowers and studies the lovely arrangement, “overpriced” is a faroff word from his mind.

He collects his horse once more, glad to leave the mess of people in the town, and finds his stomach turning all the way home. Zeke is nervous, for no reason at all, and feels embarrassed at the fact. He has nothing to be nervous about, except that Tatiana might laugh at him just a little for buying so many things for just one holiday, but how was he supposed to buy just one thing for her? How could anyone ever expect him to do that?

* * *

 

Tatiana had said a prayer when the day started, that she wouldn’t forget about anything in the oven and that everything would go smoothly, and she supposes it works. Not a thing is burnt, everything tastes fine, and there was, bless the gods above, not a single unexpected disaster. Her perfect dinner seems ready to go on without a hitch, and it’s a rare streak of luck for her.

She pulls out a nice lace tablecloth (really, her only nice tablecloth) and drapes it over the table, smoothing out the creases and making sure that the edges are even. She checks that the wine is chilling in the ice she’s put it in, then double-checks that the wine glasses are clean and sparkling. The charlotte for dessert is made, the bread in the oven a few minutes shy of done, and the rest of the food is either cooling down or still simmering to completion. It smells divine; good enough that she doesn’t lament the emptiness of her wallet.

Before Tatiana starts lighting any candles or laying out any dishes, she freshens herself up, because she looks more messy than alluring after spending most of the day working. A quick brush through her hair gets it fluffy and shining again, a splash of water on her face removes the dirt, and she makes sure to get the flour and seasonings out from under her nails. She has a nice dark blue dress all picked out, low-cut to show off just enough, and feels that she’ll look cute enough.

Hesitantly, though, Tatiana pulls her recent purchase out from underneath the bed, peering into the bag at the strappy lace and silk with a quiver to her lips. She’s already bought it, and there’s no returns, so she has to wear it; the question is only when. Does she put it on underneath her dress for him to see when he takes it off of her? Does she perhaps hide it in the bathroom, put it on after dinner, and surprise him with it then?

Tatiana thinks of herself, leaning on a doorway in a new set of lingerie like some seductress, and blushes violently. She’s not sexy or sensual, not in her book, and she has no hope of that. She decides to just put it on now, even if it’s a little uncomfortable, and feels dreadfully embarrassed as she ties ribbons and adjusts straps. She tells herself she shouldn’t be embarrassed, because many have been a time that she has encouraged this sort of behavior in friends (“It’s fun, it’s exciting, why not?”), so why should she be?

The answer is that seducing a lover in lingerie is much more embarrassing when it’s no longer a concept being applied to someone else.

She finishes fixing her hair, applies a light brushing of makeup, and goes back to the kitchen where her food is just about done. The sun is setting, and Zeke should be home soon, provided that Jerome hasn’t ruined everything and kept him longer. The thought worries her, so to busy herself, she finishes setting the table with her best dishes, putting the small candles down and lighting them, and stirs the sauce she has on the stove.

Tatiana looks over at her setup—the lace tablecloth, the candles, the fancy dishes, the expensive dinner, and even the lingerie under her dress—and is suddenly woefully dreadfully impossibly  _ embarrassed _ with herself.

Sure, this isn’t rose petals on the bed, but she wonders what she’s gotten herself into.

* * *

 

Zeke holds the bag of presents and paces the side of the house, Ephraim watching him with baffled eyes. He shouldn’t feel embarrassed. It’s only a dress, a bouquet, some sweets, and a few small things. It’s not like he emptied out their entire savings for one little holiday. It’s not like she’s going to be drowning in gifts. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous to give them to her. It’s not like Tatiana is a stranger he admires from afar; she’s his lover whom he goes home to everyday and gets into bed with.

Ephraim neighs and shakes his head, huffing irately, as if to tell Zeke, “Coward.”

“I am working on it,” Zeke snaps at the horse as he takes another pace.

* * *

 

“This is so embarrassing,” Tatiana whispers to herself for the umpteenth time, her face in her hands.

Maybe she should put the candles out. Maybe she should burn the bread really quick and overcook the meat so it’s not as perfect as she planned. Maybe she should take off the lingerie and feed it to the fire and act like it never existed. Maybe-

* * *

 

This is going to be easy. Simple. Tatiana has no idea what’s coming. Zeke is just going to go into the house, where she’ll probably be knitting or sewing or something like normal, tell her he loves her and wanted to surprise her, and offer her the gifts. It’s not like she’s  _ waiting _ inside for him in something like lingerie, draped against a doorway and waiting waiting waiting, all soft, heavy curves and plump thighs and delicate pink lips, and-

* * *

 

Tatiana is just halfway out of the kitchen, anxiously fiddling with the strap of the lingerie under her dress and determined to remove it, when she hears footsteps just outside the door, heavy boots against the ground that she knows very well, and it’s too late. It’s too late to do anything about the gaudy lace or candles or the dinner, so she clasps her hands together, stands awkwardly by the table, and waits.

* * *

 

Zeke stops thinking about Tatiana in arousing situations and makes for the door, his courage both somewhat strengthened by the thoughts, and also broken down. Yet, he still walks up, gifts in hand, and fumbles a little with the doorknob as he wonders what he’s gotten himself into.

* * *

 

When the door opens, Tatiana flinches, squeezes her hands tighter, but tries to calm her pounding heart down. The house is quiet, except for the sound of some things on the stove, and she watches his feet with her downturned eyes as he comes in, shuts the door, and has no idea that he’s just as nervous.

Zeke keeps his eyes turned towards the ground as well as he comes in, too embarrassed to look her straight in the eye as soon as he enters. He holds the strap of the bag a little tighter, fighting an embarrassed blush, because he just doesn’t like blushing and getting hot and bothered. He shuts the door behind him and wonders why she isn’t saying anything.

The two of them look at each other at nearly the exact same moment, and neither of them can say anything. It’s completely silent, and Tatiana’s eyes flicker down to the bouquet of flowers, the parcel and bakery box, and the bag. He looks stupefied, which is exactly what she wanted him to look like, but she didn’t expect on being speechless herself. This isn’t what she planned at all, and she doesn’t know what to do, but she knows that she’s delighted from the very depths of her heart.

Zeke doesn’t know why he’s surprised, because of course it’s just like Tatiana to say, “No, I don’t want anything, don’t mind me,” to cover up the fact that she’s going all-out. Of course she would say, “You’re too busy,” to try and make her celebration a surprise. Of course, of course, of course she has dolled herself up to utter, undoubted perfection, of course she’s cooked something that smells divine, of course she’s set the table with lace and candles. How could he ever expect her to do something different than her best?

Yet, even though he thinks this is the most perfect scene he’s ever come home to, all he says is, “Oh, uhhh.”

Her heart drops and she puts a hand over her mouth, all those feelings of embarrassment and fear washing over her again. Tears rise in her eyes, because she can never turn off the waterworks for five minutes, and she mumbles, “It’s too much, isn’t it? You don’t like it!”

“N-no, I do!” He finds his bearings and puts the gifts off to the side, only barely making sure they don’t fall over, before closing the space between them. Zeke folds her into his arms, right against his chest, and strokes the top of her head as she sniffles a little. She smells sweet, like her favorite perfume and whatever she’s baked, and he kisses her hair.

“It’s too much,” Tatiana mumbles weakly against him. “Isn’t it? It’s gaudy, right?”

His hand sweeps over her hair, smoothing it down. “No, no, I think it looks nice. It’s a nice surprise. I had no idea you were going to go all-out, but I should have expected this, knowing you.”

Weakly, she laughs, then pulls away from him. She brushes underneath her eyes, picking up just a bit of moisture, and then looks at the gifts left by the door. The flowers are beautiful. Not the typical red roses that she’s been seeing for a while now whenever she leaves the house, but beautiful, soft pink carnations and small white lilies, surrounded by foliage.

“And I should’ve expected you would do something like this,” she tells him. “You shouldn’t have spent all this money on me. What is all this?”

“Is it too much?” he asks, anxiety clear in his voice, as she approaches the gifts. “It’s just a few things. I didn’t know what you would like best, or what was proper to buy, so I wound up with more than intended.”

She picks up the flowers, which are in a nice vase. She looks at them up and down, fingering the silk ribbon tied around it, and gently touches the petals of a carnation. Zeke watches her, so slightly mesmerized by the profile of her face and the curve of her lips as she enamors herself with the flowers, and lifts a hand to brush a bit of hair away from her cheeks. She leans into his touch slightly, then moves to set the flowers on a table in the living area.

“These are very lovely. I adore them,” she says. “We can put them on the kitchen table when we’re done with dinner, and I’ll look at the rest of these gifts then.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, but really, was he expecting her to say that she hated them? To stomp her feet and toss her head and say she wanted red roses instead? Tatiana is far from that kind of selfish, and he’s never known her to hate any kind of flower. She looks peaceful and thrilled, and Zeke feels a little ridiculous for ever feeling nervous.

She goes to the kitchen, humming, and he walks behind her as he looks at what she has set up. There is a steaming loaf of herb bread on the table, a slab of butter next to it, and a bowl of simmered vegetables. There are two steaks seared in a pan, and he almost grimaces as he thinks about what cuts of meat that fine might have cost her, because he knows that she undoubtedly used her own money for all of this.

“Can I help?” he asks as she plates the meat.

Tatiana pauses spooning a cream sauce over the steaks and hums, looking over to where she has the wine chilling. “You could pour that for us. I can never get the bottle open as fast as you, so it’s better for you to do it.”

“Very well. I’m just going to go get dressed in something more comfortable.”

He leaves the kitchen, and once more, Tatiana briefly wonders if there’s time for her to remove the lingerie very quickly and dispose of it, but it’s a ridiculous thought. Instead, she just plates the meal, sets it on the table, and wonders what in the world she’s supposed to say when he undresses her later, and dearly hopes that he doesn’t laugh at her and mock her for going so far as buying an expensive set of lingerie.

Zeke, when he gets into the bedroom, is amused at the lack of decoration and preparation there. He teases her when he comes back out, sliding on a loose blouse, that he had been expecting rose petals on the bed or something, and she goes a vibrant pink.

“D-do you want them?” she asks. “I think they’re just ridiculous, b-but I can go and get some roses and-!”

She looks so genuinely flustered and desperate that he has to choke back a laugh. He clears his throat, pats her shoulder, and shakes his head. “It was only a joke, Tatiana. Everything is perfectly lovely already.”

She sighs, the most relieved she’s felt all night, and takes a seat at the table while he gets the wine. For a moment, she had been genuinely worried he’d been serious, because Tatiana can do a lot of things in the name of romance, but she can’t do something as cheesy as  _ that _ and not absolutely die. What she has now already, just a simple dinner, has already made her so anxious and nervous that she thought she might faint away.

They eat the meal in relative silence for the most part, but it’s a comfortable silence. Neither of them really know what to say, in particular, because work that day was much too boring to discuss over a nice, romantic dinner she’s slaved over, and Tatiana is certain that he doesn’t want to hear her go on and on about everyone who came to visit her and the like.

“This must have taken you a while,” he says eventually. “You shouldn’t have gone so far just for me.”

“It only took me a few hours,” Tatiana lies, because it really did take her all day to do it properly. “I just wanted to do something special.”

“I would say this is very special,” he assures. “You did all this, and all I did was buy you a few things. I feel like I’ve put no heart into my celebration at all.”

“Don’t say that,” she says a little forcefully, then goes a bit pink and picks up her glass of wine. “I- I really wanted to be spoiled, truth be told. Presents are honestly exactly what I wanted.”

Zeke is quiet, then smiles and says, “I see. You really wanted me to celebrate with you that badly, yet you kept telling me to not do anything?”

She looks cute, rubbing the back of her neck and then fiddling with a piece of hair. “I wanted it so be surprising. I thought, for your first Rafail’s, that would be fun. I figured, you know, ‘there’s always next year.’”

“Well I certainly was surprised,” he tells her. “I still can’t believe I didn’t suspect anything at all when you love holidays and the like so much. You completely fooled me.”

Tatiana puffs up a little and says, “Well, if I couldn’t at least occasionally surprise the man I love, I’d be ashamed of myself.”

Zeke smiles and leans over the table, and says, “I wonder if you have any other surprises for me?” in so certain a tone that Tatiana has to quickly glance down at her shoulder to make sure the strap of her brassiere isn’t showing. It isn’t, and she supposes that he’s just being coy, but still starts to heat up in the pit of her stomach as she thinks about how she’s anticipating the later part of the night very eagerly.

It doesn’t help when he goes quiet, almost pensive, and then says very genuinely, “You look very lovely, darling.”

She touches her hair in a cute way, then looks down at her food. “Do I?”

“Yes. Don’t look so surprised when I say that,” he softly chides. “You always look lovely.”

They finish the meal and do the dishes together, putting the kitchen back in order before pulling out the charlotte and more of the wine. Tatiana starts to feel warm and bolder the more she drinks and finds herself kissing him between every bite of the cake. He tastes sweet, like the fruit and the wine, and though he doesn’t get drunk half so easily as she does, appears to be getting more relaxed. They whisper little “I love you”s between their kisses and touch each other carefully.

Zeke watches as she opens the presents a short while later, a little clumsy as she holds them with the wine in her system, but she’s still alert and attentive. The pastry box is full of macarons, all brightly colored and flavored, and though he doesn’t really care for them much, he takes the half she insists on sharing with him. She leans back against him on the couch as she eats another couple.

“You just had a lot of cake,” he reminds.

Tatiana pops another macaron into her mouth. “So what?”

“You’re going to get a stomachache,” Zeke tells her, gently pulling the pastry box away and setting it aside.

“What’s it matter?”

“It would be a shame if you were too ill to participate in the rest of the fun we have available for the evening,” he says, so casually, and Tatiana once more burns in the very core of her stomach.

Tatiana unpacks the dress, fawns over it after she gives it a thorough looking-at, and thanks him with a kiss. She’s sweet when he puts his lips on her, a delicious blend of the wine and the macarons, and Zeke cups her face to kiss her more thoroughly. A giggle leaves her; one of her hands loops around his neck, soft as she plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, and she tilts her head to invite him further.

“Do you suppose this was a good celebration?” he asks between kisses.

She takes in a little gasp of air, then presses her lips to him again, then stops to say, “There’s still more fun to be had.”

Zeke puts a hand on her waist, smiling as she kisses the corner of his mouth. “I mean the celebration outside of the more raunchy side of things. Did you like the presents? Did I go overboard?”

She pulls back and studies him, starting to feel very foggy from the wine. She tries, in her head, to count how many glasses she’s had—one two three… four? Five?—but can’t pin down the number exactly. She can tell he’s nervous, however, waiting for some approval, so she says, “I liked it very much.”

Zeke’s eyes brighten up just a little, in such a cute way. “Truly?”

“Mmm.” Tatiana puts her arms around him, snuggling her face into the crook of his neck. “I liked it a lot. The flowers are so nice, and the dress is so pretty. You didn’t have to do anything for me, but you did. I love you soooooo much.”

She’s just a bit drunk, and it’s loosening her tongue a little, but there is an overwhelming amount of affection behind her voice that sends a shudder up Zeke’s spine. She’s draped over him, perched in his lap, and soft against him. Her breath is slow and steady, as though she’s starting to doze off a little, and he gently nudges her to keep her awake.

“I also liked very much what you did for me,” he tells her, smiling when her eyes go wide with excitement. “It was very romantic, and the food was delicious. I can tell you worked hard.”

He reaches up and cups her face, swiping a thumb over her bottom lip. Flustered, she glances away, then quietly admits, “I was really excited. I was really, really excited to do something really nice and romantic…”

He raises a brow and strokes her cheek.

Tatiana feels a little sappy from all the wine, and it makes her say, “I didn’t ever think I’d celebrate like this, I guess. Being with everyone at the church, and with everyone in the village was all nice, but… You know. At the end of the day, everyone would go home to their families and partners. And I would go to my room, alone.”

She looks vaguely sad, and he pulls her face into his shoulder. “And you were lonely.”

Tatiana squeezes the fabric of his shirt in her hands, taking in the fact that he is there. That he exists. “I guess. Told myself I wasn’t. But it’s hard being the only one without a family. It’s not like no one pays attention to you, but everyone has someone more important when you get down to it.”

Zeke wishes he could say something a little comforting along the lines of, “I know,” but he can’t. His existence as Ezekiel has only ever been filled with Tatiana, and she has never let him be lonely. He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel completely isolated. He doesn’t know what it’s like to go to a room alone and feel cold.

“Well, I love you most,” Zeke assures, offering her a small kiss on the tip of her nose. “Very, very, very much. You don’t have to be alone again while everyone else has fun without you.”

Tatiana smiles, tilts her head back, and parts her lips for another kiss. He obliges, resting a hand on her waist, and gives her another one of the night’s countless kisses.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ggggg you know what?? im a big coward and i said this was gonna be Spicy and it still _is_ but it's not at all explicit, i got to the start of the slightly explicit part and then was like "oh, noooooo" so this is just them smooching and being soft while naked, JUST. USE YOUR IMAGINATIONS, IM A BIG WIMP, i can't believe there's no nsfw tatizeke At All and i tried but i couldn't do it, SOWWY

The kisses slowly go from delicate and gentle to more and more demanding. The bottle of wine completely empties, and both of them feel hot and dizzy. Zeke leans in, gasping slightly as he kisses Tatiana, and drags his hands over her body. He’s been eyeing the curve of her chest, the cleavage visible, almost the entirety of the evening, and reaches up to lightly brush his fingers over it.

Tatiana sighs and fists his shirt in her hands, parting her lips and letting his tongue slide in. In his lap, she scoots a little closer to him, eager to feel his body heat. His hands are moving over her body, roaming politely over her chest, and she wants the dress off to feel him on her bare skin.

And then, the realization that she has that stupid lingerie on underneath the dress shatters her alcohol-induced haze. She freezes for only a second, but he doesn’t seem to notice; his lips keep moving against her, his tongue smoothing over her bottom lip. He has his hands in her hair now, tilting her head up towards him for a better angle. She keeps kissing him, lost in a growing arousal, but wonders how she’s going to get out of this damned situation.

Zeke takes her to the bedroom, hand in hers as he pulls her up, wobbly, from the floor. She doesn’t seem quite so drunk as she was when they started kissing, but still shaky, so he holds her and guides her, laughing a little whenever she stumbles over her own feet.

“Are you quite alright, darling?” he asks Tatiana.

She mumbles, shakes her head, and then nods. “Just more wine than I’m used to. I’ll be fine.”

He opens up the door to the bedroom, still holding her hand tight. “Truly? You’re fit for a little bit of fun?”

As if to prove she is, Tatiana tilts her head up, puts her shoulders back, removes her hand from his, and walks into the room on her own. Her steps aren’t quite straight, and she’s obviously weak in the knees, but he decides to not comment on it, because he knows she’ll pout, and now isn’t really the time for that. He merely shuts the door behind them and watches as she sits heavily on the bed, sighing and playing with an end of her hair.

“What were you hoping to do first?” he asks politely.

Tatiana hums and tilts her head, staring at the corner of the room. She didn’t have any particular plans, really. She always hates when he asks what she would like to do, because she doesn’t really know what she would like to do, and just likes when he touches her in ways that make her feel good. It’s not like she’s picky or anything. He mostly asks to tease her and try to get a blush out of her.

“You could kiss me again,” she invites. “I like that.”

“Hm.” He idly steps towards her, hands behind his back, and smiles as she looks up at him. “Do you like that, now?”

“This is supposed to be romantic,” she complains slightly. “Don’t tease me. Just kiss me.”

Zeke sighs, brushes her bangs out of her face, and cups her cheek. “Very well. I can’t resist those eyes. I’ll do exactly as you wish, love.”

“Kiss,” Tatiana insists once more, and he obliges.

Zeke leans forward against her, deepening his kiss, and Tatiana makes a soft little noise as she adjusts herself on the bed. She falls back against the pillows, eyes shut as he moves over her, and hums as he holds her close and keeps kissing. His mouth isn’t rough, yet it is demanding, and his tongue parts her lips and slips into her mouth. She pants, gasping for air as he takes her wrists and pins them against the bed.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs whenever they pull apart, if even for a second, and then he leans in to kiss her again. “I’ve never seen someone so beautiful.”

She gasps after breaking away from a particularly long kiss and licks her lips. Her body is swelteringly hot, and she wants her clothes off in theory. The second he moves to remove them, however, she snaps a hand over his wrist.

Zeke stops, seemingly flustered at her sudden defiance, and stares at her quizzically. Her face is a bright pink, eyes a little panicked, and he frowns. She was so hot and eager a moment ago, but now she seems frozen solid, almost comically horrified at something. He makes a move to pull at her dress once more, but she squeezes his wrist harder with all the strength in her body, which, frankly, isn’t much.

“Sweetheart?” he asks softly. “What’s the matter?”

Tatiana regrets the lingerie. What is she supposed to say when he takes her dress off and sees it? What does she do? What is  _ he _ going to say? Sure, she hasn’t dumped a sack of rose petals on their bed for them to dramatically make love on, but lingerie  _ is _ pretty corny, and she doesn’t know why she thought of it in the first place. Tatiana feels hyper-aware of the lace on her skin, the smooth silk ribbons, and pouts up at him.

“I don’t want to take it off,” she mumbles.

Her lover reels back. “Tatiana?”

He looks so baffled that she starts to fumble for anything that sounds like a valid excuse. “I, uh-!”

“Whatever is the matter?” he asks. “Just be honest, Tatiana.”

She looks down, then back up, and admits, “I bought lingerie and I put it on and now I’m worried you’ll laugh at me.”

His eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, and he looks at her body. “Well, I don’t think laughter is the exact reaction I would have to  _ that.” _

So, Tatiana  _ had _ been waiting for him in lingerie when he came home, but perhaps not in the exact way he’d fantasized about. Regardless, it stirs the heat within him, and he leans down to kiss the corner of her mouth.

“I think it’s pretty,” Tatiana admits quietly.

“Then it was a good purchase,” he assures her. “Can I see it?”

She frowns as he brushes her hair over her shoulder. “Promise to not laugh because I did this?”

“Again, I don’t think laughter is going to be my response.” Zeke carefully pulls on the sleeve of her dress, then says, “Please.”

Tatiana eyes him warily, then moves to get up. Zeke gets on his knees, giving her space, but undoes the clasps on the back of her dress when she moves her hair over to the side. She stands slightly awkwardly as he slowly opens the dress up, her hands squeezed together as she waits for a reaction. Zeke hums, slides a hand over the small of her bare back, and then pushes the dress forward and down her arms. Tatiana wiggles out of it, lets it fall to the floor at her feet, and he likes the sight of the blush on her shoulders.

He also likes the sight of the lingerie when she, with a little bit of coaxing, turns to face him. The brassiere is a thin white fabric, nearly transparent, and lined with pink ruffles. The panties are nearly the same, and tied with silk ribbons at the sides that he experimentally pulls on. It’s a simple ensemble, but very much Tatiana’s aesthetic. Cute and frilly without being overly-complicated.

Zeke isn’t laughing, but instead looking at her with an expression that Tatiana would almost describe as pensive. Still sitting on the bed while she stands in front of him, he smooths a hand over the curve of her waist, humming under his breath, and lightly fingers the ruffles on the underside of the brassiere. He definitely doesn’t hate it, but she has a hard time knowing what he’s thinking as he studies her so intently.

“Well now,” he says finally, after keeping her waiting. “Lovely.”

He squeezes her thighs, but she barely notices as she says, “Really?”

“It’s cute,” he breathes. “I think this is an incredible purchase. Why in the world would you be embarrassed of it, darling?”

She puts a hand over her chest, still straining for some semblance of modesty until he gently pulls her hand away. “Just because. I don’t need a reason. It’s just embarrassing.”

“If you say so.” He leans forward, hands on her waist, and pushes a kiss to the bare swell of one of her breasts. The flesh is plump and hot, pliable under his mouth, and Tatiana gasps, her fingers threading in his hair, as he kisses her hard. His entire body is throbbing, boiling, and he pulls away to take his shirt and yank it over his head. Her hands immediately roam down from his head to his neck, over his back, touching the newly-bare skin.

“You didn’t let me take it off,” she mumbles.

She feels Zeke smile against her skin as he puts his lips back on her. “I’m sorry.”

They part, once more, for him to finish removing his clothes. Tatiana drags her hands over his body, feeling the curve and swell of muscles beneath her fingers. His skin is hot, burning, pleasant to the touch as she leans against him. He touches her hair, smoothing it beneath a hand, and reaches to tilt her chin up towards him. His face is flushed, his eyes a little dazed, and he leans down to kiss her.

The back of Tatiana’s knees bump against the side of the bed. She squeaks as she stumbles back, but Zeke steadies her easily. Embarrassed, she sits on the bed heavily, huffing a little at the alcohol still buzzing through her. She puts the embarrassment behind her quickly and lays back on the bed, makes herself comfortable, and opens her arms to him. He looks good, refined and handsome even without his clothes, and the pit of her stomach is boiling with desire.

“Come here,” she urges. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“I worry more about your comfort,” he tells her, but he climbs on the bed anyway, leaning over her as he bends down for a kiss.

Tatiana opens her mouth for him, a little desperate, and openly moans as he kisses her deeply and runs his hands over her body. The pads of his fingers are rough and calloused from what they both assume are years upon years of holding leather reins and the shafts of lances and the grips of swords. They are rough hands, but gentle with her, smoothing over her belly and waist, down her hips, squeezing her thighs. Zeke’s touch is hungry and lustful, but he is still patient and kind.

He grunts a little as she shifts her legs, one of her knees brushing against the inside of his thigh. He holds her thighs a little tighter, kisses her deeper, and presses right up against her. Her chest pushes up against his, a pleasant warmth, and he listens with growing delight as she moans again. The sound is soft, breathy, high-pitched, and it stirs his arousal further. Zeke smooths his tongue over her bottom lip, breaks the kiss, and puts his face to the crook of her neck to give her attention there.

Tatiana gasps, sinking her fingers into his hair as he kisses her neck. The soft hums and sighs coming from him are only serving to heat her up further, and she squirms against him, shifting her legs around, as her arousal climbs higher and higher. His teeth graze her skin; she drags her fingers out of his hair, down his neck, and over his back to feel the ripple of muscle there. He’s built like a god, everything perfect and purposeful. She feels meager in comparison to him, but based on the sounds he is making and the way he’s touching her body, he feels that she is anything but.

“Ezekiel,” she whispers. “I love you.”

Zeke gasps as he pulls away from her neck, hissing a little, and his hands move down from her waist and over to her hips. Tatiana hums, still stroking his body, and then gasps as she feels his fingers moving over to her front. She shakes, biting her lip to hold back her sounds, as he idly rubs his fingers just above her crotch.

“I don’t suppose you’d want me to touch you here?” he asks as he keeps touching her calmly and casually. “Just a little lower, my love?”

Tatiana squeezes him tighter, and he can hear the soft sounds of desperation choking in her throat. They’re tight and high-pitched, frantically trying to escape her, but she’s holding back. She always does this, like if she gives in and starts moaning and whimpering right away, he’ll think less of her. He’s assured her, more than a few times, that there’s nothing wrong with her sensitivity, but she still tries to act tough.

Ezekiel knows how to break her quickly, though.

He takes two fingers and smooths them down over the front of her panties, goes lower, and presses them hard against her covered vulva. Her reaction is immediate: An arched back, lips parted in a quivering gasp, fingers digging into his skin. Her nails hurt, just slightly, but he ignores it as he starts to rub his fingers back and forth against her through her panties. He can feel the heat coming off of her in waves, feel how swollen she is, and struggles to hold back his own moans and desires as he pleasures her.

“Do you like that?” Zeke’s voice is smooth and deep, and Tatiana squeezes her eyes shut and takes it all in. He is asking her half to tease her, and half because she knows he would genuinely like to know if she really is enjoying it.

“I like it,” she gasps as he keeps rubbing her. She bites her bottom lip as she removes a hand from his back to also sink her fingers into his hair again. The rubbing is slow and steady, a delightful pressure against her, a slow stimulation.

Zeke leans in and pushes his lips against her forehead as he slightly picks up his pace. Tatiana squirms beneath him, a vivid flush on her face. Her eyes are squeezed shut, like she’s embarrassed to open them and look at him, like they haven’t made love plenty of other times, like this is something new. She’s always just a smidge embarrassed, but he’s fine with that. It makes her cuter.

A bit of rubbing and he moves his face down to her neck. He puts his lips on her skin, humming as he tastes the tang of sweat starting on her, and drags his tongue over her. Tatiana shudders, sighing, and relaxes against the pillows like all the tension has flooded out of her. A gentle, barely audible chorus of, “Yes, yes…” and, “That’s so good,” leaves her, and she pets his hair. He keeps rubbing his fingers up and down over her panties, pushing harder with each stroke, and grazes his teeth over her neck.

The pressure against her gets harder, and though she feels relaxed now, Tatiana squirms more and more. She feels hot and needy, and based on the hardness occasionally poking against her thigh, she knows she isn’t alone in that feeling. There’s an undeniable throbbing between her legs, and she has a harder time ignoring it with every passing second that her lover rubs her.

Her arousal is becoming more and more apparent; the more Zeke rubs her over her panties, the hotter her core becomes. Eventually, it starts to feel a little damp, and he lets out a shaking gasp as he pushes his fingers up against her. Tatiana squeaks—an adorable little sound that he feels against his lips—and grips his hair softly. Her breath is coming out shakily, and he feels it stirring against his hair.

“Do you feel good?” he asks her.

Tatiana feels deliriously good, and she tells him so, quietly, breathlessly. She strokes his hair softly, holding him against her as he continues kissing her neck, and lets her entire body relax. He’s rubbing faster and harder, and she feels herself getting wetter. A moan escapes her, a little hum, and then she squeaks when he presses against her hard, so hard, and then suddenly pulls back.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

Zeke pulls his lips off of her neck and starts dragging them down her collarbones, over the swell of her breasts, and keeps going lower. He puts his hands on her waist, sliding them over her soft belly. He stops, giving special attention to her stomach as his hands move down, grab the hem of her panties, and slides them over her thighs. He sits up as he takes them off, quietly urging her to cooperate with him, and they finally slip over her feet and wind up somewhere on the ground. He doesn’t care exactly where they’ve landed.

He only cares that his lover looks like a vision, almost completely nude on the bed. The vibrancy of the quilts contrasts with her skin nicely, makes her look delectable. Her hair, soft and flowing like the ocean’s waves, streams out over the bedding. Her skin is flushed after the rubbing and kissing, a pale rose-color dusted over her flesh, and is especially prominent on her freckled cheeks. Tatiana’s head is turned slightly towards the pillows in an act of embarrassment, but her eyes are half-lidded, bright with lust as she regards him.

Zeke reaches down, brushing his hands over the remaining lingerie. Tatiana flinches, watching, shaking as he runs a hand over a breast. His touch is still gentle, but firmer. He squeezes her mound in a hand, satisfied when the pliable flesh gives way underneath his grip. It’s pleasant to the touch, soft and smooth, and she makes adorable faces when he touches it just the right way. Her lip is between her teeth, her eyelids fluttering.

“I’m going to take this off,” he tells her briefly, then reaches for the straps of the brassiere.

Tatiana helps him, undoing straps and clasps, and he slips it down her arms, throwing it somewhere as casually and nonchalantly as he did her panties. He struggles to not stare, because staring is impolite and not gentlemanly at all, but as usual, he has a hard time. Her body is lush, all round curves and soft edges, and it’s difficult to keep his eyes off of her. She looks fragile and beautiful, blushing fiercer than ever, as though she hasn’t been in this position many times before, like he has never seen her.

Zeke leans down and tilts her head towards him, away from the pillows, and kisses her softly. He feels her starting to open her mouth, but he puts a hand on her soft belly and rubs, and she stops. She lets him give her a chaste, close-mouthed kiss, gentle and loving, and she cups his face as she eagerly receives it.

He pulls away from her after a moment, their lips parting with the slightest sound, and breathes, “You’re so beautiful.”

Tatiana muffles a sound as he puts his hands back on her chest and squeezes, lightly rolling her mounds underneath his hands. He puts his lips on hers in another soft kiss, teasing her with the suggestive touch and the chaste kiss. Her body is shifting around, squirming, and she parts her lips to gasp occasionally.

“So sensitive,” he murmurs against her, then kisses her again.

Her head feels like it’s spinning out of control. Her body is hot. Her legs are tingling. There’s an all-consuming, burning, demanding throb between her legs. She feels desperate, but he keeps kissing her lightly. His hands on her breasts, however, are firm and touch her in a manner that gets her squirming more ferociously. His touch is skilled and thorough, and on top of that, she’s sensitive. So sensitive that every touch feels like a burn of the best kind.

He pulls back again to murmur little affections, soft “I love you”s and hushed “You’re so gorgeous”s. Zeke even drops in one “I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman in my whole life,” and that one makes her giggle a little, because she full-well knows that there is no way of saying that for certain. She had told him as much one time, and he had, very seriously, said that he knew in his heart for certain that he was right.

Tatiana’s lips are thoroughly kissed, so he starts his descent downwards again. Her mouth is freed up for panting as he replaces his hands with his lips. He kisses the soft flesh as he thumbs her hips, desperately trying to devour her. Her fingers curl into the bedding as he lavishes his tongue over the peaks of her chest, and her back arches off of the bed.

“Gods,” she whispers. “Ezekiel…”

“Hush now, darling,” he murmurs against her. “I haven’t gotten to the fun part yet.”

He hears her swallow as he keeps kissing her chest, and then his stomach heats up as she says, so quietly, “Then hurry. I-I’m waiting…”

Now, what kind of man would he be if he kept his lover waiting?

Zeke moves down her body in a haste, still leaving kisses everywhere that he passes, but he’s clearly got somewhere to go now. Tatiana swallows, face heated as she watches him go further and further down, racing his lips and tongue over her belly and her pelvis, until he finally gets to where he wants to be. A quivering sigh leaves her as he sits up a little, takes her chubby thighs in his hands, and hoists them over his shoulders. She shifts her legs around, getting comfortable, and giggles as he bends down to kiss her belly again.

“Cute,” he murmurs. “I love you.”

She smiles, still holding the sheets, as she watches him turn his head to kiss the soft insides of her thighs. “Do you, honey?”

His lips are hot and thorough as he gives her inner thighs some attention. He sucks on the skin a little, nips with his teeth, and then looks at her from the corner of his eye. He hums, a sound low in his throat, and murmurs, “You’d like me to show my affection in action over word?”

Tatiana grips the sheets harder as he turns his face back towards her exposed center. She’s spread wide, ripe for the taking, and tells him, “Yes, I would like that.”

Zeke smiles briefly, just a hint, and that’s all she sees before he puts his mouth on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look me in the eyes and tell me he doesn't have a good tongue. LOOK ME, IN THE EYES, AND TELL ME HE ISN'T GOING TO EAT HIS WIFE OUT FOR VALENTINE'S DAY, I DARE YOU,

**Author's Note:**

> SO UH, time ran out and i have to go to work which is kinda why this ends so abruptly, there was gonna be mildly spicy part at the end (because it was obviously building towards that...) but i think what i'll do is write that very soon and add it as an appendage chapter, so you can either go with mushy cute domestic romance, or you can go with both that and some Spice that i'll add. so if you want to read the spice, keep an eye out for it very soon?? pretty soon. they're gonna smooch


End file.
